


in a kinder world

by Fallenfromfaith



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: F/F, homura is really really hard on herself and most of the things she thinks about herself arent true, i cant believe this is my first pmmm fic but better late than never i suppose, this was supposed to be happier than it actually is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 21:05:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19259164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenfromfaith/pseuds/Fallenfromfaith
Summary: In one timeline out of many, Homura Akemi decides to stop battling against fate for one cycle and instead asks Madoka out on a date. Maybe, just for a moment, they can both find happiness in the little things.





	in a kinder world

Homura does not count her attempts, she cannot tell you which attempt this is, where she is standing in front of Madoka’s desk, where her classmates are standing in awe at her sudden departure, where she does not falter. Her hair is no longer in braids, tied with ribbons, she no longer has her stupidly soft warmth to cover Madoka in, she no longer possesses a smile that does not lie, and she knows she should have done this a long time ago.

The last time she never even saw Walpurgis night. It was such a failed timeline that a week in she found Madoka as a magical girl with a child clinging to her legs. The child had been lost in a labyrinth and Madoka heard Kyubey calling out to save the lost little girl. What a vile trick. Homura had not spared a glance back as she began anew. 

But in her bed at the hospital she thought of the weeks leading to Walpurgis night, the things she could have filled them with, the joy she might have found. There will always be a next time, Homura knows this more than anyone else. Over and over, just a pull of her shield and next time will be laid out in front of her. There will be another chance to save Madoka, she is going to take this next time for herself. 

Now, in front of Madoka’s desk, she wishes she had planned a little more thoroughly. It isn’t like her to jump in headfirst without elaborate diagrams and what-ifs. This loop is already forfeit, curtains closing on a bad end. Still, she should have planned out exactly what she was going to do. She’s a new student, hands on Madoka’s desk, looking at her aggressively. Miki’s voice echoes in Homura’s head, “I can’t believe that weird transfer student just harassed you for a date! Who does she think she is?” 

Homura does not spare a glance behind Madoka to see whether Miki is frowning deeply or not. How many times has Madoka given her soul for that stupid girl? How many times has Madoka died for her stupid teenage drama romance? That one might be a bit hypocritical, considering what Homura is doing right now, but she isn’t feeling particularly kind in this moment. 

She can’t exactly ask Madoka out on a date right then and there, she’d be rejected. Without hesitation she smothers down the thoughts that begin to crawl up from the depths of her mind, “She would reject you either way. Why would she ever want to go on a date with a hideous girl like you?”

“Hello,” Homura says, voice even, voice without warmth.

“H-h-hello!” Madoka squeaks out adorably. She’s nervous, and why wouldn’t she be? Homura doesn’t blame her in the least, Homura has never blamed Madoka, not once in her entire life.

“I’m Homura Akemi,” She already knows that, why is Homura telling her that?

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you Akemi-san!” Madoka calms down as she says the words, growing into the conversation but Homura has to stop herself from physically flinching. It took a lot of practice to hide things like that, to hide herself like that. 

“You can call me Homura,” Please, call me Homura, “I’m glad to meet you Madoka.”

Her nervous smile wavers, “How did you know my name?” Homura again hides the fact she’s been thrown off kelter. A rookie mistake, one she shouldn’t have made, but this is all new to her. 

“The teacher told me, since you’re the nurse’s aid,” Homura keeps her voice even. If only she was still innocent, if only she could still smile without it hurting. If only her resolve could weaken, just for a moment, just this once.

“Oh,” Madoka presses her fingers together, “If you ever need anything, I’d be happy to help!” 

I would die for you, Homura almost says, I have let everyone else die for your sake, I have watched you die because of my weakness, because of my incompetence. She doesn’t even indicate she’s thought that at all. Madoka doesn’t need to know all that, all she has to do is survive. 

“Thank you,” Homura says, “I suppose I should greet our other classmates,” she can feel them staring at her back, willing her back to them. Then, without waiting for a response, she turned away. 

She wasn’t out of earshot before Miki exclaimed in what she thought was a hushed tone, “She’s so weird! What was that even about?”

While Homura’s classmates restarted their barrages of questions she planned, as she often does. If she didn’t hurry Madoka would be contracted. Did that matter? Maybe that was to her advantage, she could wait until they’d fought a witch together, grown close to each other, then she could ask. Something about that made Homura feel wrong. She didn’t want to use her knowledge of time to manipulate it like that. 

What she wanted was a date, not a relationship, she couldn’t bring herself to reach for that. Madoka’s life was all she desired in the end, she wasn’t doing this for her love but because she loved Madoka with all her heart. No, she shouldn’t let things run their course, play the part and then leave Madoka alone in this timeline. Just one moment, that’s all she wanted, just one tiny bit of happiness. 

Then, her path is set. After school Homura walks solemnly to intercept Madoka’s walk home. She waits for Madoka to part ways with her friends, then she sets her plan into motion. 

Homura isn’t a good actress, the only face she can put on is one of cold indifference, stoney resolve, so she cannot act surprised upon seeing Madoka walk towards her.

“Oh, Akemi- Homura,” Madoka looks nervous, why wouldn’t she be? Some strange girl is approaching her after school hours very close to her house. Homura is disgusted with herself, using her knowledge of the town like this. 

“I have a question,” Homura skips pleasantries. 

“Oh, about the school? I’d be happy-”

“No,” Homura internally winces at the startled frown that forms on Madoka’s face, “I wanted to ask you if you’d like to go out for coffee sometime.” Going for coffee is a common date activity, right? Homura, truthfully, has never done something like this before.

Madoka looks down almost instantly and begins shifting the straps of her bags from one hand to the other, “O-oh, that’s… really sweet of you.”

“I wanted to ask back at school,” Homura tells her, “I lost my nerve.”

Madoka looks up, “You were nervous? Asking me?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t need to be! I’d love to go with you!” Madoka smiles and Homura feels something in her chest squirm uncomfortably. That smile, how many times has Homura thrown herself to the wolves for that smile?

“Then, are you busy tomorrow after school?” In this moment Homura realizes how long she has been waiting for this and how she cannot wait any longer.

“Tomorrow?” Madoka asks and bites her upper lip in thought, “I think that’d be fine, I don’t have any plans.”  
“We’ll meet after school then,” Homura says and wishes she could smile. How creepy it must be to Madoka for stoney faced transfer student to talk her on her route home and ask her on a date.

“I’ll be looking forward to it!” Madoka says, “I’ll see you tomorrow!” And this time she will see Homura tomorrow. 

Homura lets Madoka go home and then goes home herself, if you could call Homura’s place of rest a home. She’s really doing this, she really has a date with Madoka. They didn’t call it a date, maybe Madoka just thinks it’s two friends going out for coffee. An odd transfer student trying to make friends by inviting a classmate out, that’s all it’d be for Madoka. Homura feels that disgusting feeling build in her throat. Is this wrong? To lead Madoka astray like this? Is she a bad person?

No doubt about that one. Perhaps she should have been more forthcoming with her invitation. There is always a next time for Homura except this time, she won’t be doing this again. This is her only chance, after that she has to keep going, she has to find a way out of this maze. This labyrinth of despair spread over a month and a half.

It’s been a long time since Homura has felt something so acutely. Her stomach in knots, the fact her pencil keeps slipping from her fingers, she can barely hear what the teacher is saying. In the teacher’s case Homura has heard the lecture many, many times, and has learned to tune it out anyway, but this feels different, like she’s underwater. She’s nervous, she is actually nervous. It’s not a date, she tries to tell herself and fails. Tries not to glance at Madoka but fails in that regard too. She usually has more self restraint than this yet she can’t help watching Madoka listen intently in class. 

Time is passing so slowly, more so than usual. In the month and a half before Walpurgis descends upon the city time always feels like it crawls. Homura has done this so many times that it’s become a slog. This, again, is different. She wants time to pass not so she can attempt to destroy Walpurgis night but so she can spend time with Madoka. In the end, isn’t that what this was always about? Securing a future for Madoka? A future where Homura could spend as much time as she wanted with her?

No. No, it was never that. In Madoka’s future, Homura has no part. To hope that is foolish. This is all she will grant herself, nothing more than this. There is only enough magic left for one miracle and it does not belong to Homura. As long as Madoka is alive to smile then Homura is happy. 

The slow screech of the school day ends and Homura realizes they hadn’t said whether they’d meet out in front of school or in the classroom. Madoka is gathering her things and if Homura leaves when Madoka thought they were meeting there she’ll be hurt. But, if Homura comes unannounced to Madoka’s desk she might bother her, intrude on her time with her friends. 

She is not left with much time to worry about it because Madoka walks over to her desk, cheerful smile in hand (or rather, on face). 

“Hello Homura,” Madoka fidgets with her bag, she’s feeling nervous. Homura is sharing that emotion for very different reasons. 

“Hello. Are you ready?” Of course she is, why would she approach you otherwise? Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

“I am,” Madoka says, “Where are we going?”

Oh. Homura forgot. To go on a coffee date you have to have a cafe in mind to go to. She’s spent so much time in this town over the course of one month repeating but none of her surveillance and research has gone into the ideal date spots. 

“If you don’t have one in mind, we could go to this place I like,” Madoka offers Homura a lifeline, as she has done more times than she will ever know.

“That would be acceptable,” Homura does not let the tension escape from her shoulders, keeps her face a blank sheet of glass. 

And so they set off together, Homura following Madoka’s lead. Come to think of it, she did note that Madoka likes to visit a place in the mall. It was good to know where Madoka frequently went so she could intervene in the incubators attempt at forming a contract. Still, Homura couldn’t very well stalk Madoka everywhere she went, even if it was for her safety. Homura preferred active action, seeking the incubator out before contact could be made. She often failed, situations and circumstances always bent to deter Homura from her goal. 

They were silent on the walk there. Homura couldn’t think of anything to say. Wasn’t this the wish she wanted, to be able to repeat her first meeting with Madoka? And here she is, messing it all up again. The wish has changed. No longer the selfish desire to be closer to Madoka but the determination to see her to the end of this alive. Regardless of the cost.

“How has your first few days at school been?” Madoka breaks the quiet between them as they approach the mall’s front doors. 

“Fine.”

“I’m glad! I’m sure it’s scary starting a new school, but I’m sure you’ll make a lot of friends, you’re already so popular!” 

There is only friend to her that matters anymore but Homura does not say that. She doesn’t say anything. 

The conversation dies there and Homura regrets letting it but she can’t think of anything to add. There is nothing to say as they walk into the mall, as they walk into the cafe. 

“Do you like it?” Madoka asks, messing with the hem of her skirt. 

“I do,” Homura lies. She has no feelings one or the other about the place but she can’t bear to hurt Madoka’s feelings. 

Madoka clasps her hands together, “I’m so glad. You order over here!” 

Homura follows her dutifully, pays attention to how Madoka stands on her tiptoes at the counter despite not needing the height. Notes the way her eyes glance at Homura every now and then, orders a hot chocolate with lots of whip cream and chocolate sprinkles, please!

The cashier looks at Homura expectantly, “The same as her,” Homura says and sees Madoka’s smile widen.

“Seperate or together?” the cashier asks.

“Together,” Madoka says quickly and pays for her before Homura has time to argue.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Homura says as Madoka hands over the money.

“Yes, but I wanted to!” Madoka smiles and Homura feels something ache deep inside her.

After they finish paying, Homura again follows as Madoka leads them to a booth, “I’m sure you’ll like the hot chocolate, it’s really good!” she chats, taking her seat.

“It sounds good,” Homura says, voice flat, face tight. Even here she can’t let her guard slip? She’s making Madoka uncomfortable, isn’t she? Why can’t she just let go, just for a single second?

“I really do love coming here,” Madoka fiddles with the napkin dispenser on their table, “I’m glad you invited me.”

“You were the one who suggested this place.”

“Yeah, but you asked me to coffee in the first place so I got to share it with you,” Madoka doesn’t take her eyes off the napkins, “You made me really happy, asking me.”

There is a lump in Homura’s throat but she keeps her hands steady, folded on her lap, “Really?” A sincere question and her voice does not crack.

“Of course! I have a question though…” Madoka pulls out a napkin and begins to fold it, still not meeting Homura’s eyes, “Is this a date? Like, a date date?” 

Homura is silent, unable to provide any answer. Which answer is the right one? She inteded this to be a date, but is that too bold? Was this a mistake?

“I’ve never been on a date before, so I’m not very good at things like this but-” she yanks her head up and her pigtails bob, “I really am glad someone as pretty as you wanted to go on a date with me. I mean, if this is a date. It’s okay if it isn’t! I’m still happy to come here with you, I just thought I’d say- I’m messing this up-”

“You aren’t messing anything up,” Homura cuts her off. Watching Madoka flounder is always painful because Homura knows the self loathing that tangles around her spirals, “I asked you with it being a date in mind, but it’s fine if you don’t see it that way.” This is the first time in a long time she’s been honest with Madoka. Usually, she has to keep the truth from everyone, including Madoka. It feels oddly comforting to just be honest.

“Oh! Well, I wouldn’t mind, if it’s a date! I’d love for someone as pretty as you to be my friend date!” Madoka’s hands play with her skirt underneath the table.

Homura feels a swell of love in her chest. It’s so simple in this moment, Madoka is just a middle schooler who stumbles on her words and Homura is just an awkward classmate who wanted to spend time with her. 

“I’m still so bad-” Madoka stops as her number is called from the counter, “Oh, I’ll get it!” Before Homura can say another word she’s already jumping up to get the hot chocolate. Eagerness to please, a trait Madoka always displays across every single timeline. Of course it would, it’s always part of her ultimate downfall. 

The hot chocolates are in large mugs and smothered in whip cream with chocolate sprinkles on top. Madoka carefully brings a tray to their table and delicately places one of the cups in front of Homura. 

“I hope you like whip cream!” Madoka says cheerfully, taking a swipe from the piled cream ontop of her mug with a finger. 

Adorable, absolutely adorable. 

“You were saying?” Homura prompts, not entirely sure why she’s bringing the topic back up.

“Oh! I was saying, I’m not good with this date stuff.” she puts her lips to the mug, getting a smudge of cream on her nose in the process. 

“This is my first date too,” Homura takes a plastic spoon from the tray and begins to work on the whip cream, taking a scoop with sprinkles.

“You eat the cream first?” Madoka asks, “I’ve never seen anyone do that before!”

“Is it weird?” Homura hesitates, feeling strangely bashful.

“No! It’s just different, I like it,” Madoka wipes her nose with a napkin, “Very unique!”

“Thank you,” Homura says, awkwardly. They really are both so new at this, both inexperinced in what exactly you do on a date. Homura is so bad at small talk and Madoka loses confidence if her conversation partner isn’t participating. 

Still, it’s nice. Clipped conversations about the weather, about hot chocolate, about school. They finish their hot chocolate and Madoka returns the mugs and tray before Homura can offer to. While she’s gone, Homura stands up and waits for her to return.

Together, they begin to walk out. There is a weird feeling settling on Homura. Peace, this is what peace feels like. Not having to constantly plan, constantly pull strings to keep Madoka alive. 

“I feel like this is a dream come true, isn’t that weird?” Madoka says, “Like, I wanted to spend time with you for a long time, but I just met you yesterday. It’s almost as if-” Madoka stops in the middle of the cafe and turns around to face Homura, who stops like clockwork.

“Homura, do I know you?” Madoka says, looking at something past Homura, something past this timeline, this life. Homura’s heart does not stop, her throat does not close, nothing is shown on her face because there is nothing to show. The warmth of the time they spent here fades leaving Homura with the cold numbness she is accustomed to. 

On her finger is a ring. It is heavier than it appears, it’s metal band grasping her finger like a vice grip, like a heavy iron circlet on her head. Homura moves her hand at her side, slightly but enough for the ring to change into a dazzling gem. Madoka’s eyes do not go to the gem for it only stays an instance. The gem shines and explodes in light. Homura is wrapped in it, that light, her clothes changing, the gem shifting to a diamond and resting on her hand. A disk of metal blooms like a flower on Homura’s arm.

The light settles and the other patrons of the cafe start to babble with surprise and confusion. Madoka’s eyes are wide at the magic that just occured right there in front of her.

“No, you don’t,” Homura says, hand to the disk, and with a click she pulls it down. Madoka fades away and is replaced with a web of colors. Homura stares at the space where she was for a few precious seconds before turning around and walking into the past. 

The puzzle pieces of time whirl around her and she doesn’t allow herself to look back. This taste of a life she could have had is all she will grant herself. What can never be, Madoka’s laugh like a church bell, warm hot chocolate in their bellies, and secret promises just between them. There is so much that could have been in a kinder world, but this is the world Homura has. The weakness has been set aside, now she must march against time, and find the happy ending Madoka deserves. 

For that, Homura would give up every happy ending she could ever have.

**Author's Note:**

> It's 2019 but sometimes you must be sad about madohomu. PMMM is one of my most beloved stories so I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you so much for reading!!


End file.
